Shadows
by AppleberryCookie
Summary: And chaos fell across the land. A retelling of the AQW, in story format. Updates are sporadic. Flames will add to the review count.


**(I do not own anything, all characters [other than those created by me] featured in this fanfiction belong to Artix Entertainment)**

 **Prologue**

As the sun began its slow descent behind the hills to the west, lighting the sky in brilliant hues of red and gold, a figure could be seen standing, alone, upon a ledge on one of the mountains of Greenguard. The town of 'Battleon' lay before her, a town of new beginnings, the most fitting place she could think of for her journey to begin.

In the evening light, Battleon was a breathtaking sight to one who had grown up in a small country village. Even at such a late hour the town hummed with life, from the expansive market place which bustled with the activity of villagers packing up their stands, to its suburban streets dotted with people merrily setting up decorations in preparation for frostval. Overlooking the town, the guardian tower stood, regal and tall as the flickered its last rays over it, a smooth warm light sliding off its spires.

Over and over they had told her - that she couldn't possibly succeed, that her body was too frail, that she had 'no aptitude in magic'. Told her to settle down, become a barber or a stable girl. But they could all go suck it because she had succeeded! She was an adventurer!

It had been her dream since childhood – her only one, in fact – to travel the world. To see everything there was to see, make campsites in the craziest of places, fight monsters or bandits or thieves, and most importantly, to be, in the end, remembered as a legend. It was a foolish dream, inspired by childhood fantasies and dubious ancient tales. But it was one she had, and would, never let go of.

She went to begin her descent from the mountain when, out of a clear sky, lightning struck. And by the time her vision returned and her ears stopped ringing, she was falling.

Somewhere in the distance, unheard by anyone, an unnamed mage sighed in frustration as he failed, once again, at calling thunder from the sky.

The mountainside rushed up towards her, dust and air stinging her eyes, and then she was rolling, small rocks and twigs digging painfully into her flesh. She could hear the muffled shatter of glass and the distinct ripping of cloth, her gloved fingers desperately tried to find purchase in the loose soil beneath her, and the muscles in her right arm burned as she constantly lost grip. In a final attempt she lifted her left arm, and screamed silently as white hot pain flooded her body. On reflex she pulled back, and the world started spinning again, and she tumbled. She reached up once more but her fingers found nothing as the ground disappeared from under her. Her brief moment of weightlessness ended as quickly as it came, and a mix of blood and spit threw itself from her mouth as her back met a tree branch and shuddered. She managed to reach up and grab it before she slipped off, stopping herself from becoming a smear of red on the ground, several hundred metres below, and with what remained of her strength, flung herself up.

With an ominous crack, the world began tilting around her. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she tried to throw herself off the branch. She almost succeeded. One of the many pouches she carried caught on something, jerking her body around, and she was thrown violently forward. She heard a resounding crash, her head slammed into something, and the world faded to black.

Joyful, childish laughter echoed about the small country house. It was far from grand, after all her family wasn't a rich one, but it was home. Inside, a mother happily retold tales heard during her youth, legends of those who could tame dragons and command mindless monstrosities of steel, of distant lands and alternate dimensions, all as her daughter listened excitedly. And every night, a young girl dreamed. Of liches, dragons and giant arachnids. Of weapons and battle. Of adventure.

When she came to, she found herself lying in a crater in the shadow of the mountain. A quick glance at the sky told her that dusk hadn't quite ended yet, so she hadn't been unconscious for long. Every breath she took sent a spear of agony through her chest, so she came to the conclusion that at least one of her ribs had cracked during the fall. She carefully pushed herself to her feet, trying not to further damage her aching body, and grimaced as she remembered that her left arm was still broken.

The quiet clanking of metal told her she wasn't alone and she tried to spin around, to draw one of her daggers. She managed neither as the world spun around her and she fell onto one knee, her hand grasping at air several centimetres above the hilt.

"Who's there?!" she growled out after several unsuccessful tries to unsheathe her dagger, although her earlier, almost comical actions, and laboured breathing drew the threat from her words.

There was no response and the world continued to spin around her, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness that was gradually blanketing the land, even in her concussed state she noticed the paladin kneeling on the ground, keeled over with an arm wrapped firmly around his stomach. Finally, he spoke.

"I am Lord… Brentan," he rasped, "you… are an adventurer, yes?"

At her shaky nod, he continued with his pained speech. "Everything… is falling to pieces… danger is approaching… from the… other side of the mountain and… the princess has been… kidnapped by… a vicious… dragon. Here… you look injured. Take these." She was already beginning to shake her head, thinking that he needed them more, but he chucked quietly, and a droplet of sweat slid down from his forehead. He slowly lowered his arm, to reveal crumpled armour, and a grievous wound in his chest. At her horrified expression, he smiled and said somewhat jokingly "they will… (cough) do me no good now."

She crawled towards him, not trusting her legs enough at the moment to walk, and picked up the potions he had offered, bowing respectfully once they were safely stored in her pouch.

"Thank you." She said, after a brief pause.

"It was… nothing." He ground out. "Go… to Cleric Joy… she might have… more information on… where the prin… cess migh..." She caught his body before it hit the ground. She stepped forwards and shut his glazed eyes, laying him onto his back with his arms folded across his chest with his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade, which she had found lying against a tree a couple metres away from him. She quickly downed two of the potions he had given her, immediately feeling the healing enchantments on the bottle taking effect, mending her broken bones and healing any cuts and scrapes she had acquired from the fall. Satisfied after a couple jumps and swinging her second dagger with her left hand a couple times, she sheathed her daggers and headed down the path.

Under the soft light of the moon, Rainah could make out three large figures ahead of her, each decked in dull black armour and carrying a mace as long as she was tall. "Undead Warriors." She whispered to herself, as she stealthily slipped her daggers from their scabbards. Applying poison from the only vial that hadn't broken during the fall to the twin blades, she breathed deeply and closed her eyes, suppressing the rush of adrenaline through her. If she was going to win this, she needed to be clear-headed and calm, not sunken in a battle frenzy. When she felt her heart rate drop, she opened her eyes, and pounced.

Slashing quickly at the two undead lagging behind, she leapt off the ground onto one's shoulder, threw herself into the air and sunk her dagger into the third, pivoting so her second dagger swung round, and separated the monster's head from its neck.

Landing lightly behind the decapitated corpse, she watched as the second turned towards her, her makeshift springboard still stumbling around. It clumsily swung its mace and she dodged the blow easily, rewarding the attempt by detaching the creature's arm from its body. She was about to detach its head in a similar manner when she heard the whistle of wind, forcing her to jump aside, narrowly dodging the mace that the now-recovered undead had swung at her. Stepping on the weapon to keep it in place, she plunged both her daggers into the creature's chest, rolling suddenly to avoid the final monster's thundering hit.

She crouched low to make herself a smaller target, and cursed as she realised she didn't have the time to retrieve her daggers without being turned to paste. She watched carefully for an opening as the monster began to lift its club again and got ready to spring in a direction to dodge the blow, but as the poison finally took hold it stumbled, and she grinned. Not one to pass up an opportunity, she grabbed the leather wrapped hilt of one of her daggers and with adrenaline fueled strength, jerked it out of the corpse beside her and flung it in one smooth motion. It slammed home with a satisfying thunk, burying itself in the monsters neck. It fell and didn't rise again.

With some difficulty, she yanked her daggers out of their respective bodies, then surveyed the scene. After taking whatever money the monsters were carrying on them, she dragged the maces she had appropriated over to her bag (adventurer standard issue - smaller on the outside and weightless) and dropped them in.

After disposing of two more patrols in her path, she stumbled upon a recently killed corpse, covered in burns while mostly encased in ice, leaving only its crushed skull outside. She walked past it into the clearing it had obviously been flung from and whistled at the level of carnage it contained. Scorches marred the ground accompanied by long trails of ice, uprooted trees by gale force winds created new trenches in the damaged earth. And with all this, dozens of monsters, now very un-undead, decorated the area in similar states to the first she had run into. Following the trail of mutilated monsters up the road, she heard the distinct sound of battle, and hurried her pace, just in time to see a young woman slam into a tree beside her, her staff following moments later in multiple pieces. She unsheathed her knives and shot forwards, arriving just in time to block the stunning blow from the woman's last moving assailant. She locked her daggers in a cross to relieve some of the weight before flinging one of them to the side, redirecting the blow, and stabbed forwards with her remaining dagger, successfully burying it in the creature's chest.

After wiping the dagger clean, she turned around and offered the injured lady her free hand.

"You're Cleric Joy, right?" Rainah asked. "Lord Brentan sent me."

The woman pushed her tattered hood back and chanted a quick spell. A blue light enveloped her, slowly healing her wounds. "Yes, I am. How is he?"

"Dead."

The cleric blinked. "Oh."

"I'm sorry."

"No no, don't apologise."

"He was kind to me. From what I saw of him, he was a good man."

A tear trickled down her cheek. "Yes, he was."

"Do you… need a second?"

She shook her head. "There are more important matters to attend to. I-I'll be fine." She pointed to the tower in the distance. "I- the dragon. Right. Can you see it? It's hanging half out of the tower. It… it has the princess. Could you bring her back safely?"

"Alright." Rainah said, turning away to give the grieving woman the illusion of privacy, before finally continuing down her path towards the tower.

"Hey, you there! You look tough, and decidedly not undead, so we need your help!" Galanoth exclaims the moment Rainah is within earshot. Which is from a hundred odd meters away. "I, am Galanoth! Head of the Order of Dragonslayers! We're bringing this bastard down, but we need to shoot his face and not his ass, so you gotta get in there and knock its head out, got it?"

"Uh..."

"Great! Find the key to the tower, think one of the undead have it. So go on, get stabbin'!"

"..."

Her hand twitched for the dagger at her side. She would begin with evisceration, she decided. His men could thank her later.

"Hey, hey, no need for that!", Galanoth began as she advanced. The dagger at her waist gleaming in the sunlight, "I was just joking! We got the key right here."

She continues advancing, considering the pros and cons of ripping his throat out first.

"We could… we can pay?"

Rainah's palm snaps open.

"300. Half up front."


End file.
